sleeping better and eating better. Este has made me go jogging twice, which has so far sucked ass, but she says it will make performing easier. I still get winded when I sing. If I give up now I could end up back where I was. Or I can see this as the fork in the road it is and pursue the stupid dream. Just let myself care about something again.
Glancing around the room, I realize it’s all in my head. I can perform in front of ten people. I did it yesterday. I managed to perform in front of seven plus the band today. I don’t even count Leo or Mr. Sherman as part of the crowd anymore.
“Lana!”
My eyes drift to James. He’s talking but my mind is wrapped up in its argument. I can’t let my stage fright kill it all for everyone else.
I don’t want to.
I want this to be the greatest moment ever. I want to look back and say this was the summer I turned it all around.
“Earth to Lana,” Leo says but James looks worried. I take a huge breath and the booklet from Leo, seeing the songs. As I turn each page, the selection gets scarier. When I see the song from Dirty Dancing I cringe, but James turns the page. “I was thinking this one.”
Jordin Sparks and Chris Brown. I contemplate it and shake my head. “That’s a pretty big diva song. I don’t know if my vocals can carry ‘No Air.’ She’s badass.”
Leo stands, tucking a pencil behind his ear and bringing me an iPad. “We saw it more like this. Let him be the diva and you be soft, like a Julia Stone or the chick from Civil Wars. That’s more your sound. Like an acoustic version, instead of divalicious.” He plays a video of Nick playing the keyboard and singing softly, very indie sounding. Weaver is in the video. It makes me smile, wondering if Weaver thinks it’s crazy waking up to the world looking like this suddenly.
I pick up James’ guitar, making them all grin. James cocks an eyebrow. “Guitar too?”
“Yeah, and I can play piano. Violin was just always my favorite.”
He looks stunned, but I don’t want to talk about it.
“I took lessons.” I roll my eyes and start to pluck the cords from the page, letting my fingers adjust to the mellower tune of the song with the guitar. James and Simon start singing, bringing a smile to everyone’s lips. Simon does Jordin Sparks’ part perfectly, bringing his voice up like hers.
If he were a little smugger, winking at the ladies in the crowd, he’d be set.
I need to get him laid. The virtuous vibe coming off of him is intense. He’s still friggin’ star struck by James. It’s almost enough to make a girl sick.
James is swoon worthy, just not enough for someone to worship. Not with his fifty-eight notches.
He gives me a sideways look as he lets his voice own the Chris Brown part of the song. It gives me chills.
Fuck it! He is someone you could worship.
How the hell can one person be so perfect?
It’s intimidating and overwhelming, and deep down my brain shakes its head and spouts off doubts. Rachel’s words of wisdom swirl through my head as my fingers tickle the strings, making the guitar come to life. The other week when I talked to her on the phone about the whole thing, she told me she dated a guy like James once. They burned so hot they burned each other out. He emotionally exhausted her and drained her of everything she had worked so hard to build up. Her confidence depended on his approval. Her body craved his touch. Her heart beat because his did.
She stopped being an individual.
She asked me if that was the case and I couldn’t answer. I did have an answer but it wasn’t a good one. I fear her past is my truth too, but I also fear him not being there to make me feel everything I do when he’s with me.
I’m on this proverbial stage because he is here with me, like a blanky I need to fight off the demons.
We finish the song to the outburst of cheering from the guests Mr. Sherman has invited to observe and make my stage fright go away one day at a time.
This is our last time playing at Harvard. The show is being announced tomorrow and we are leaving for LA in the morning.
I’m excited